


love's gonna get you down

by thescyfychannel



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, and at least cute gets bonus points, at least he's cute, the awkward dream bubble date
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-21
Updated: 2013-11-21
Packaged: 2018-01-02 05:50:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1053248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescyfychannel/pseuds/thescyfychannel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Live your life until love is found,<br/>or love's gonna get you down.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>(If she loves you, [don't] let her go)</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	love's gonna get you down

You didn't think she'd actually take you up on it. Seriously. It had been half-meant as a joke.

Even now, you caught yourself glancing up at the troll on your arm from time to time, wondering if that was _actually_ her standing there. Long braids. Pink glasses. Fins. White eyes.

Definitely her.

But there was the tiny little fact that she was a fucking TYRIAN blood, and the word lovely had never applied—no, he could justify ravishing, but adjectives like knockout, stunning, drop-dead gorgeous, _killer_ , came to mind much easier. Damn if she wasn't the hottest thing he'd ever seen. No, wait, coolest, her hand on his arm was like ice.

And if that was the case for him, her hand must've felt like it had a fever.

 

Right, focus. You're on a date. Or about to be, anyway, once either one of you picks a damn location. "So how did Alternian trolls angle up some good tides anywaves, nubbyshouts?" And there's the first—what had Dave called it? Stumbling block? Something like that. Who the hell had a block just for stumbling?

See, you'd never really left your hive all that much. "Uh. Not much, really. At least, I wouldn't fucking know, not when every asshole on the planet would've been lining up to cart my mutated carcass off to the Condesce." And there's the second one, your stupid brain didn't seem to have any control over your stupid mouth.

It seems you get lucky, because Meenah just laughs that one off. "Yeah, shore fin, nubs. If that's REELY the case (which I doubt, no versfin a me would krill a cute motherglubber pike you) then what the shell did YOU do for fun?"

Well shit. That's even worse of a question. What the fuck were you supposed to say? It wasn't like you could just tell her—"I used to watch romcoms and practice my strifekind." Or maybe you could. The look Meenah's giving you is two parts disbelief and two parts pity. And then it hits you. "So I know EXACTLY what to do on a date."

You take both her hands and shut your eyes. This may or may not work. The dream bubbles were made up of memories, though, and you had plenty of memories of romcoms and romantic dates, and maybe if you spun that fast enough, you could make it stick.

Then Meenah starts laughing, and you open your eyes and _grin_.

 

Even if you had a hard time defending this movie, the setting was near-perfect for a troll like Meenah. The whole place was island and ocean themed, and even if the settings were a little, ah, common, the sheer novelty value ought to make up for it. "The Hukilau Café? Damn, buoy, you reely know how to treat a gill!"

You're still wearing that stupid grin as you offer her your arm. "Then shall, wait shit, 'shell' we go?" That gets you a squeal of delight, and Meenah doesn't bother with plesantries, dragging you by the arm into the little café.

 

The memory of it is fairly solid, and troll Amy Hill greets you at the door. Of course you do the gallant thing, and lead Meenah to one of the nicer window booths after snagging a pair of menus. After a moment or two, your orders are down, and troll Pomaika'i Brown is working on two orders of waffles with a side of spam. "So this is café from _A romantic comedy wherein one troll runs headfirst into serendipity via the red quadrant, despite past infidelities and terrible advice from his moirail, and has to deal with the difficulties inherent in a redrom where your partner's thinkpan is wiped each night, culimnating in an attempt to postpone a trip for her and the destruction of her memory assistance documentation, so as to free him up, with no less than three incidences of black solicitations, and a single lusus attempting to care for two moirails._ "

Meenah's sort of staring at you (it's hard to tell, what with the white eyes and all), and you're CERTAIN that your cheeks color red. Fucking mutant blood. "Uh. The humans have a shorter title, but it's really shitty, something like _50 First Dates_. It's accurate and concise, I guess, but those nookwhiffers wouldn't know a decent title if it smacked them upside the bonebulge."

"Shell yeah, they've got no taste atoll!" She raises her glass, grinning again, and you clink yours against it ceremoniously. "Bottoms up!" And she downs hers in two huge gulps, as you're left staring for a moment. "Ain't a proper coast if you don't drink, shouts, clam on."

"Fuck, right, got it—" You can't exactly drain a cup full of water in five seconds flat, but you give it your best effort. It wins you a victorious crow, which sort of makes up for all of the water you've sloshed across your sweater. Maybe the appeal of magically clean godtier (what was the word Dave used? Pajamas? Sure, let's go with) pajamas was starting to show. "I've humiliated myself enough, now it's your turn. What did YOU do for fun anyway?"

That sparks off a whole rant about her Empress-lusus, and you two compare notes on how the shell Feferi Peixes could've grown up to be like that. Then she's on you about Crabdad, and you wind up telling her everything Aranea had told you about the Signless (you might've gone to the exposition booth when no one was around), and she nearly can't believe that Kankri would be like that.

 

Sometimes you catch yourself looking at her mid-sentence, and you almost have to jumpstart your brain. Not just because she's the most attractive thing you've seen, in a thoroughly deadly way, but because this is the _Condesce_ sitting right in front of you. Or at least, the troll who grew up to be the Condesce in your universe, which is nearly the same damn thing.

Then she'll laugh, or give you a shy-sweet look, or even _blush_ , and you're back to square fucking one with her, stumbling over your own goddamn repartee. The idea that someone so sharp could have a soft side isn't anything new to you, not with the way you were vacillating for Terezi not even a sweep back. But the fact that she's a seadweller, a tyrian, Empire's sake, that really throws you.

 

"You're gorgeous," you blurt, and it's worth the humiliation to see her flush.

"You ain't shoal bad yourshellf, Karkat." That might be the first time she's said your name, and you already know that you _love_ the way it sounds on her lips.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was written for the absolutely lovely silicon-pickpocket, who runs Ask His Disciple and Ask the Crazy Cat Lady ((http://askhisdisciple.tumblr.com/ and http://askhiscrazycatlady.tumblr.com/))
> 
> Song:  
> Lollipop, by MIKA ((http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6md5RSnVUuo))


End file.
